


(After All The Dreaming) I Come Home Again

by lesbianophelia



Series: Like a Ghost Into The Fog [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianophelia/pseuds/lesbianophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss takes a trip to her father's cabin by the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(After All The Dreaming) I Come Home Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreenWool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenWool/gifts).



Her feet carry her forward without her permission. Past the snare line, through the woods, and to her father’s cabin. Scraps of fabric, bloodied and presumably left from the group that the soldier led out of district twelve, litter the floor.   
  
It’s time-consuming, difficult work. She uses the little broom that her father made, years ago, to sweep the rags into the fireplace, and then she sets them on fire. It’s the best way she can think of to get rid of them. While the fire catches, she sweeps the leaves and pine needles out of the door and then she sets to work in earnest. She cuts a strip from the bottom of her shirt and uses it to clear away dust and grime from the window-sills.   
  
The fire is still burning when she finishes, and she strips down and wades into the lake, letting the cool water wash the sweat from her skin. She pins her wet hair up against the back of her head, and then, once the ash has been cleared, she revels in the evidence of her hard work. The cabin looks -- not quite new, but then it never did look new, not as long as she’s known about it -- but nice all the same. Clean. Safe.   
  
Safe enough, at least, for her to settle in for the night. It’s too late for her to head back towards the district, now, and it’s not like there’s someone waiting for her. The summer night is hot and sticky and she doesn’t feel the lack of the blanket, so she just manages to sleep curled up on the now-clean floor.   
  
At first, every sound reminds her of the arena. Anything could be coming for her. But then, she has her bow, and she manages a little bit of fitful sleep, exhausted from the exertion earlier. There’s something about being in the woods -- about being free, or at least feeling like she is. She didn’t realize she felt like anyone else, but by the time the sun rises, there’s something almost akin to a lightness in her chest.   
  
  
But she was wrong about not having anyone waiting for her. The baker is sitting out on the porch, his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped. At the sound of his name, he straightens. Stares at her, like he can’t believe she’s there.   
  
“Where --” he begins, but then cuts himself off. “Are you hungry?”   
  
To her surprise, he isn’t angry with her, for just taking off the way she did. He’s pleased that she’s back, and “feeling better,” whatever that means. But when she tries to apologize for worrying him, he shakes his head. Tells her that he’s “not her keeper” and that she can go whenever she wants to, but to please tell him before she does, because he can’t handle it, not knowing where she is or if she’s in danger.   
  
He assures her that he knows that she can take care of herself, but the next time she heads to the cabin, he packs her a meal. As relieved as she is to know that finding herself again doesn’t have to mean losing the baker, she’s more pleased that there’s anything left for her to find when she heads for the woods.

 

**Author's Note:**

> all the titles in this series so far come from the album August And Everything After by Counting Crows, 'cause that's what I listen to while I write this.


End file.
